


thirty-first

by Liu



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Post 2x04, mostly - Freeform, pairings are mostly hinted at, though it was supposed to be Dan/Lucifer, twisting the canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8317765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liu/pseuds/Liu
Summary: SPOILERS for S02E04 - 'Lady Parts'.Lucifer honors his deal with Daddy dearest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Post-2x04. 
> 
> I just really, really want more Lucifer/Dan in the world... but this fic could be read as Lucifer/Chloe as well, if you squint... it popped into my head after watching the last ep, and I needed to get it out XD
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated.

Dan buries his shaking fingers in his hair and tries not to think about the worst possible outcome. ‘Tries’ being the operative word – he’s been a cop for far too long and he’s used now to consider every possibility, every way something can go to hell in a matter of seconds. Keeping a positive outlook is especially difficult while sitting on a hard hospital chair, listening to the bustle of the place around him.

Chloe is right there, one door and fifty feet away, fighting for her life, and Dan has seen enough in the medical staff’s faces to know that the odds are not great. He tries not to think, because when he lets his mind wander, it inevitably goes to Trixie, plunges him into a deep pool of helplessness and despair.

How the fuck is he going to raise their daughter without Chloe there to tell him when he’s being a pushover or an idiot? Where are they going to live – Dan’s gut twists in a bout of nausea when he thinks of going back to that house without Chloe in it. He can’t take Trixie to his apartment; he didn’t think of long-term solutions when he signed the lease, and the place is little more than a glorified hiding hole, one bedroom and half a kitchen, an old sofa and bare walls, a hideout for a man who needed to lick his self-inflicted wounds. It’s no place for a child, for his daughter, and Dan doesn’t _want_ to think as if he’s given up hope already, but there’s not much to do except wait, and he’s never been good at not thinking.

That’s the one thing they had in common with Chloe, despite all their differences. He doesn’t regret that he told her they should get a divorce, and god, was that just a couple days ago? They were headed down that path long ago and he cannot regret making the decision he still thinks was absolutely right – but the truth of it is, he’s still her husband, even if it’s just on paper, and he’ll be her widower if she-

His cop’s instincts make him raise his head and he’s glad for the distracting sound of resolute steps on the hospital floor, but his relief quickly washes away as he sees Lucifer stalking down the corridor towards Dan. He looks… wild, unhinged, ready to fight the world, and for a moment, Dan has this crazy idea that Lucifer will punch him in the face. Lucifer’s destination only becomes apparent when he passes Dan without even a glance his way, and Dan’s out of his chair before he can think twice.

“Woah, woah, woah, _where_ the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snaps as he winds an arm around Lucifer’s waist, stopping his progress just as the damned club-owner raises his hands to push through the swinging door of the operating room.  Lucifer turns to him, and there’s an odd gleam in his eyes, unfocused and almost… desperate, and the sudden urge to step back from that intensity nearly makes Dan let go of him. Nearly.

When Lucifer opens his mouth, Dan expects a lot of things, like ‘how’ or ‘who’ or ‘will she be okay’ – what he does _not_ expect is the mournful tone and the message it delivers.

“It’s my fault.”

Dan lets out a shaky breath; goosebumps ripple over his skin. He imagines Lucifer behind a steering wheel, Lucifer talking Chloe into a drink, calling her phone as she was driving, but he can’t find a truly good reason to punch the man in the face, no matter how much he suddenly wants to.

“What?” he snaps, and Lucifer’s long fingers curl around his forearm, squeezing almost to the point of pain.

“He was right,” Lucifer mumbles, and Dan doesn’t know who he’s talking about, but Lucifer doesn’t seem to care as he turns his panicked gaze to the door – Dan’s never seen him quite like this, not even when he saw the man wake up from what looked like _death_ , on the floor of his stupid loft. “My father went back on our deal, after all.”

He’s not making any sense, as per usual, and Dan frowns, but before he can say anything, Lucifer continues:

“I have to fix this. Fix _her_.”

“Oh, so you’re a doctor now?” Dan sneers – his only reward is Lucifer’s eyes on him, again.

“I have to do something.”

Dan shakes his head – he understands the sentiment, but… “There’s nothing you can do. Feel free to wait here,” _with me_ , he doesn’t say, and the sad part is that right now, he would actually appreciate the company of this infuriating asshole.

“No, you don’t get it. I have to go,” Lucifer hisses and extracts himself from Dan’s hold – for a second, Dan gets ready to stop him from bursting into the operation room, but Lucifer doesn’t try that again. Instead, he fists his hand into Dan’s jacket and pushes him into the nearest wall, almost making him trip over his own feet.

Dan lets out a small ‘oof’ as his back collides with the hard surface, but before he can protest, Lucifer holds up something small and shiny in front of his face.

“What the-“

“Don’t say it, please, Daniel, not now,” Lucifer cringes and Dan focuses on the small object – it’s a coin, silvery and unfamiliar, and Lucifer presses it into Dan’s hand with hurried, insistent fingers. The metal’s warm, and yet, the tiny piece of silver makes Dan shiver all the way down to his toes. It’s an unpleasant sensation, one that should not be caused by some antique coin; but maybe his reaction is to Lucifer’s hand still wrapped tight around Dan’s.

“Make sure she gets it,” Lucifer says, “preferably before she… while she’s alive.”

Dan is aware of the odds, but having it said out loud so crudely makes his blood boil. He scowls and pushes against Lucifer’s chest, but he could just as well be trying to move a solid wall.

“She’s gonna make it,” Dan growls, because he refuses to let anyone say otherwise, for fear of making that horrible possibility so much more real. “And you can give her your stupid… _souvenir_ yourself, alright?!”

“Unlikely,” Lucifer smiles, and it looks cold and distant and not quite human. “I don’t have time to butt heads, so to speak, so be a dear and make sure she has it on herself, just in case. Oh, and can you pass on something else, too?”

Dan opens his mouth to tell Lucifer where to stick his random gifts – but he never gets to speak the words because suddenly, warm lips descend on him in a hurried kiss, and Dan freezes under the touch. Lucifer’s lips are silky in a way that should be strange but feels impossibly, shamefully _good_ ; Dan squirms, just a little, and his hand that has been resting against Lucifer’s chest to push him away curls into the designer shirt and pulls him closer. Dan sighs, and Lucifer’s tongue takes the in – he tastes odd, sweet but unfamiliar, like some sort of an exotic fruit that Dan has never seen before in his life, but it still makes Dan shiver and this time, it’s far from unpleasant. Before he can start analyzing his own (overly enthusiastic) reaction to a man he hates _kissing him_ all of a sudden, Lucifer pulls back with that irritating shit-eating grin of his, and straightens his lapels, like nothing weird has happened.

“Well, I think this is goodbye, then. For several decades, at the very least… I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again eventually, Detective.”

Before Dan can correct him about the title that technically no longer belongs to him, Lucifer’s gone, and the warm coin digs into Dan’s palm, unexpectedly heavy and sharp.

His lips are still tingling three hours later as he sits by Chloe’s bedside, having bullied and sweet-talked his way into a short visitation. He could see the looks the doctor exchanged with the nurse, the looks that clearly said ‘let the man sit with his wife while she’s still _there_ ’, but he doesn’t care. There’s nothing he can do, only wait and see how that thirty-percent chance the doctor mentioned pans out. He feels a little stupid when he slides the small silver coin into Chloe’s hand, but no matter how much of his adult life relies on hard logic and tangible proof, he’s been brought up on a certain set of beliefs and it kicks in when all the reasoning of the world fails him.

He’s seen Lucifer dead, and he’s seen him worry about the state of his jacket mere minutes later; if there’s even the smallest chance that the coin is more than just some sentimental trinket, if there ever was time in his life when he’s willing to take that chance, it’s right now.

Dan has no idea whether Lucifer’s little souvenir has anything to do with it, but he’s not looking the gift horse in the mouth when Chloe wakes up, thirty-nine hours later, disoriented but recovering. Lucifer doesn’t answer his phone, and Dan’s not even sure why he cares enough to try and let the man in on the good news. But he can still see Lucifer’s unfocused, trapped look as he stormed into the hospital, and he thinks that any man who cares _that_ much deserves to know.

 _Lux_ is just as quiet as it usually is in the early afternoon, but there’s something stuffy in the air, a heaviness Dan’s not used to. He walks up to the bar, slides his forearms over the polished surface, and waits for Maze to notice him. Her back is tense and he knows that she’s aware of his presence, but he gives her time to acknowledge it. Takes a couple of minutes before she turns, half-empty glass in her hand and a scowl on her face.

She doesn’t _look_ drunk, but there’s just something about her that lets Dan know she’s been valiantly striving for that exact state.

“What the fuck do _you_ want here?” she snaps, and Dan raises an eyebrow at the open hostility: he thought they were past that, down to the realm of thinly veiled dislike, at least.

He leads with “Chloe woke up,” on the off-chance it will make Maze less likely to get violent. Something like relief passes over her face, but it shutters quickly, turns into bitterness and anger and the same helplessness that was in Lucifer’s eyes that night at the hospital.

“I know,” she shrugs, and throws back the rest of the drink. It looks like a good three fingers of bourbon, but she doesn’t even wince at the burn.

Dan decides not to ask _how_ she knows and focuses on why he actually came here.

“Where’s Lucifer?”

The glass shatters, from nothing else but the force of her grip, and Dan subconsciously straightens, pulling himself back from the flying shards.

“You got some nerve, coming here and asking _that_.”

“What?” he says, barely more than an exhale – Maze’s eyes flash with danger and Dan takes a step away from the bar, but before she can lunge (and Dan’s been attacked enough times to recognize the signs), another voice joins and Dan whips around at the sound of it.

“Lucifer’s not here.”

Dan believes that Lucifer’s weird brother still owes him for that shirt he ruined with his stupid crantini, so he doesn’t hold back as he frowns at the man and squares his shoulders.

“Well, when will he come back?”

Amenadiel glances towards the bar, exchanging looks with Maze, and Dan’s sick of that silent communication, so he throws his hands up in the air and shakes his head in resignation:

“Alright, whatever, I don’t care. When he shows up, tell him Chloe’s gonna pull through. And to come get his stupid coin.”

He barely takes two steps before he’s stopped with a hand on his shoulder. Dan tenses, but forces himself not to react.

“Wait. You have the Pentecostal coin?”

Dan blinks. “Is that what it’s called? And no, I don’t, Chloe does – is it some sort of a family heirloom?”

But nobody answers him – Amenadiel is too busy frowning at Maze.

“I thought he said it disappeared when Father brought him back.”

“Apparently not,” Maze shrugs, and then starts pacing behind the bar, grabbing a bottle and taking an unhealthy swig. “Shit, he really must’ve wanted to save her. It doesn’t make any sense! What the fuck am _I_ supposed to do now?!”

Dan can’t stand the theatrics anymore – he shrugs off Amenadiel’s hand and frowns at the guy. “What happened? Where’s Lucifer?”

“He had a certain… deal, with our Father. He’s not coming back.”

Dan wants to ask, but there’s finality in Amenadiel’s voice, hard and unquestionable. Dan’s stomach churns, again, and he walks out without another word – he needs to breathe, but even long gulps of the sun-warmed smog-filled air don’t make the ache in his chest go away. He didn’t ask for details – he didn’t want to, as Lucifer’s odd family has a way of spinning tales that are impossible to take at face value; but the way Amenadiel said it, Dan’s pretty sure he wasn’t lying about the bleak ‘forever’.

Dan wouldn’t have thought that he’d ever feel upset about a future without Lucifer Morningstar, but he feels like he’s drifting, detached and aimless, as he drives back to Chloe’s house. He’s not happy about the fact that he’ll have to tell her; by the time he parks in front of her driveway and walks in just to have his daughter come running for a hug, Dan’s certain he _won’t_ tell her. Not yet – not while she’s still recovering. Maybe not ever, maybe she’ll believe Lucifer has gone on some sort of an extended vacation.

And if he touches the silver coin on her bedside table after he turns off the light and drags the blanket up her sleeping form, well, nobody has to know.

Except, unfortunately for Dan, somebody already _knows_. He’s not sure what woke him up – there’s no noise in his tiny apartment when he kicks off his covers and slips out of the bed, as quietly as possible, but there’s an intense sense of wrongness, of an invasive presence nearby, that makes Dan’s muscles tense and coil in anticipation of a fight.

He doesn’t make a sound when a hand winds around his neck, crushing his windpipe. A warm breath ghosts against his ear as his heart kicks up the rhythm in panic.

“Make sure you say ‘thanks’ for your wife when you arrive,” Maze sneers and the weight of Lucifer’s coin slips into Dan’s palm, right before he feels a sharp pain lance through his chest.

And then, everything is darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> There might be a sequel coming. For any ideas or just general fangasming about Lucifer (especially Lucifer/Dan), [come talk to me on tumblr.](http://www.pheuthe.com)


End file.
